


Weep

by berouja



Category: SHINee
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, M/M, sadness all around idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7343596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berouja/pseuds/berouja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You have to do it,” said Jinki in a low, calm voice. “The rat himself asked for you.”</p><p>I nodded, barely registering what Jinki just said to me. I wanted to ask him again if it was true, if it was him that they captured. The darkness has started to envelope the sky and my countdown began.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weep

“You have to do it,” said Jinki in a low, calm voice. “The rat himself asked for you.”

 

I nodded, barely registering what Jinki just said to me. I wanted to ask him again if it was true, if it was _him_ that they captured. The darkness has started to envelope the sky and my countdown began.

 

A few hours earlier Jinki had told me that there shall be another execution. The execution was to take place, as usual, during the daybreak. I have never executed anyone, not alone at least. I have seen prisoners here come and go, like meat ready for slaughter. Here, once you go to prison, you might as well die. The very air we breathe here stinks like Death herself. This is a place where no hope thrives, where people are nothing but faceless bodies to dispose of. In here, people wish for an easy death, a much realistic prospect than leaving alive.

 

Minho is my name. I am a soldier to the North Korean army. Jinki, my superior, recruited me when I was barely 12. My parents were killed by the very people I serve. They were disloyal to our great nation, they said. I would have been killed too if not for Jinki vouching for me. Since then, I’ve trained myself in the art of war – I’ve learned to kill, to torture, to spy, and to not feel. All part of the job, Jinki told me. I believe him… or at least I did.

 

I met him in a settlement village not far away from the barracks. He was a simple boy with pretty eyes and plump red lips, a little skinny, but then again who isn’t in this country? I would not have noticed him if I didn’t catch him blankly staring at me. It was a different kind of stare – empty, cold, exacting. It was almost as if he had no twinkle in that pretty eyes of him. I wondered then how it would be to see those eyes shine bright.

 

I approached him and he tensed up. Not an unusual reaction from seeing someone in uniform. He probably thought I was to arrest him.

 

“What’s your name,” I asked him.

 

“Lee Taemin,” he answered softly. He started to fidget and blink continuously, an obvious sign of nervousness. I chuckled which prompted him to fidget even more.

 

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I only wanted to know your name,” I assured him.

 

“Please… I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m sorry if I stared at you,” he replied. He was crying at that point. It made me feel _bad._ For the first time in a long while I haven’t felt something akin to guilt, and this boy I just met made feel exactly that. I fished out my handkerchief and proceeded to wipe his tears with it. He looked at me as if he was betrayed. He’s probably not used to the goodness of soldiers like me.

 

He stopped crying after a few while. He was clutching at my handkerchief like his life depended on it. “Keep it,” I told him. “You can give it back the next time we meet.”

 

***

 

The next time I saw him was at a village inspection. All the villagers were lined up outside as we searched their houses for possible signs of subversion or ties from the outside world. When it was done, I asked for him to come to me.

 

“Please…”

 

Again with the pleading.

 

“Please, I haven’t done anything wrong,” he whispered.

 

“You haven’t. Don’t worry Lee Taemin, you are safe with me. I only wanted to ask you for dinner.”

 

He looked at me questioningly, making sure I really said those words to him. I was smiling then. That was the first time he looked at me without fear. His eyes still lacked that spark, still. I decided that I’ll bring out that twinkle in him.

 

***

 

Our first date was uneventful. I invited him over to my home and cooked meat for both us. He ate the meat with gusto, after all, common villagers like him cannot afford meat. We only spoke after he was done eating. I saw that he looked ashamed, like a child caught in the act of doing something he shouldn’t.

 

 I tried to make him feel comfortable by cracking jokes, but to no avail. It’s either I’m a terrible jokester or the boy’s got no soul. I settled instead to ask him questions about himself. I found out that he was 19, that like me he is an orphan. Both of his parents died due to pneumonia. He has an older brother, a fellow soldier stationed in the DMZ.

 

We went out on a few more “dates” after our first dinner. Slowly, he’s opened up to me. I learned little bits about himself that he only revealed to me. He liked dancing, but not the traditional kind. He liked the modern dances of the Americans, which was frowned upon. He also liked to watch American movies, which again, was frowned upon. But I didn’t care about all of that. I may be a soldier sworn to uphold the laws of our land, but I am still a human being willing to bend rules to see Taemin smile.

 

His smile. I can never forget the first time he smiled. We were at my home, sitting together watching a movie. It was a movie which starred Charlie Chaplin called “Twenty Minutes of Love.” I had procured a copy through Kibum, a soldier-slash-smuggler. I had told him to smuggle any American comedy film to which I had to pay tons of money.

 

It was worth it. To see him finally let himself go. To his lips curl up in glee and to hear his giggles soft as the spring rain was all worth the money I gave Kibum. In a moment of spontaneity, I reached out to kiss him. What surprised me was the lack of resistance on his part.

 

I knew it then. He wanted me as much as I wanted him.

 

***

I didn’t know how it happened, or when, but one day I just said to him, “I love you.”

 

We were both in bed then, waiting for slumber to take over. He was sleeping on his side and I was embracing him from behind. I still remember how nice he smelled. I have never been to the ocean but Jinki said that the sea smelled of heaven. This must be how the sea smelled like.

 

He turned his head and looked at me with fear, then with relief. He let out a mirth and said, “I love you too, Minho. So so much.”

 

It was the last happiest day of my life.

 

***

 

 “Minho, don’t you want to sleep first? The execution is not until a few more hours,” Jinki said.

 

I shook my head. I should probably talk to our prisoner. He looked at me knowingly. I tell Jinki everything. He’s the only family I have, so naturally he knows about Taemin and I.

 

“This is war, Minho. Whatever happens, do not falter. Either he dies or we all die. This isn’t a tragedy, this is just war,” Jinki reminded me.

 

“Of course. I know that Jinki. I…. I just need to talk to him.”

 

Jinki glanced at his watched and said, “You have 3 hours. Make it worth it.”

 

Taemin’s cell is at the lowest floor of the prison complex. The lowest floor or ‘The door to hell’ as we call it, houses the most dangerous prisoners we have. It is the most secure location in all of this camp.

 

Cell # 740.

 

When I entered the cell, Taemin was at the corner. There are no beds, tables, or chairs in our cells. Everyone knows that these cells are but temporary lodging for those who shall die. Only the guards and soldiers can step in here alive and step out alive.

 

The air was stuffy and it reeked of urine. I scrunched my nose in disgust.

 

“I forget how prissy you can be,” Taemin said.

 

“I thought you were too… but that’s just a lie, isn’t it?”

 

“Not everything you know about me is a lie. Do you think I like peeing where I sleep?”

 

I didn’t answer. Of course, no one wanted to pee where they sleep. Only infants do that, and they hardly ever know anything. 

 

“Why did you ask for me? Why am I executing you?” I asked him.

 

He smiled. I was taken aback. How can a dying man smile like that? How can he smile at all when he knows that in a few hours I will shoot him in the head? Does he see through me? Does he think that my doubts are enough to help him escape here?

 

“Because Minho, I love you.”

 

“Stop lying!” I shouted. My voice echoed in the small prison cell.

 

“I love you,” he said once more. The sadness and bitterness of his voice filled me with pity. The Taemin I knew is gone. He who laughed at the sight of actors comically hurting themselves, he whose voice was full of sweetness and hope and defiance. He was suffering, and it changed him.

 

“You are a spy of the South. Tell me, Taemin, did you really think you’d be able to get out of here alive?”

 

“I did. Now I don’t. Honestly, I haven’t the slightest idea why I agreed to spy in the first place. I just wanted to do something exciting, I guess,” he let out a hollow laugh, “and now look at me. About to die wearing ugly ass clothes that smell like piss.”

 

“Is that how you really speak? Like some dirty mouth street rat?”

 

“I only speak like this because I’m angry.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“Look at me! I am angry because I failed! I am angry because I am here. I am angry because I am dying. I am angry because I didn’t want to love you and yet here we are! Tell me Minho, does not any part of this make you angry?”

 

“Of course,” I said. “All I want is to yank you out of this cell and help you escape. Damn all the consequences. I’d die for you Taemin! I loved you but you lied to me! You’re a goddamn spy! It makes me angry that I fell for your shy boy demeanour, that I wasted my time trying to make you smile, that I wasted my feelings for someone who would betray me! I am angry at this war that divided us in the first place! I am angry that you asked for me to kill you!”

 

Taemin remained silent. I went to sit beside him. He was crying. I wanted to cry too but no tears came out. It was a pain much more difficult to process.

 

“Minho?”

 

I hugged him tighter. This was the last time, I told myself. The last time I’ll ever let myself be weak again. I will remember it all, his smile, the way he pouts when he doesn’t get what he want, the way he smells – like heaven, the feel of his soft skin.

 

“Do you hate me, Minho?”

 

Do I hate him? I wouldn’t know. Hating him would have been easier. Hating is a just reason for me to shoot him. Hating is much simpler, much easier than love. Hating requires no affection, no attachment, and no memories. When you hate something, you are consumed with nothing but the desire to obliterate the object of your hatred.

 

“Don’t answer that…,” he said after a few silent moments. “Do you remember our first date?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Say something funny,” he asked.

 

“I thought you didn’t find my jokes funny?” I asked.

 

“I did. I’m just a very good actor…”

 

 _Actor._ All of it was a lie. All calculated and plotted to make me fall in love with him.

 

“I can’t think of something funny right now.”

 

“I can,” he said, “look at us. A pair of star-crossed lovers. It’s funny how life can play you. I came in here with a mission and I was prepared for anything. Every variable calculated, every step anticipated… all but you. When I came here in this village I had heard rumours of a gay soldier. I knew then that that should be my game plan. Seduce the gay soldier, get as much information, then leave. I hadn’t realized that I would actually fall in love with you. I played a game which rules I didn’t know. And now here we are…”

 

“And now here we are,” I repeated. “Why me?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Why did you ask for me to be your executioner?”

 

“Because I love you, and I want it to be your face I see before I die.”

 

We didn’t speak for awhile, not wanting to break the monotony of silence. Down here, the chirping of the grasshoppers cannot be heard. If you listen closely, you can hear wailing. Perhaps someone is crying, or perhaps it’s just the shadow of someone. A dying man cannot weep, Jinki told me once. When I asked him he said that a dying man does not weep because he knows his end is about to come. People weep because they have hopes that their tears alleviate their pain.

 

I cannot weep. Not anymore.

 

We heard keys clanking in the distance. Taemin and I both stood up. Jinki entered the cell.

 

“You have 3 minutes, Minho.”

 

I nodded grimly. Taemin walked towards me. He pointed at his heart.

 

“Shoot me here,” he said.

 

“Aren’t you afraid?”

 

“Of what? Dying? I am not afraid to die, not if it is you that will kill me.”

 

“I would have to live on with your blood in my hands… I… I can’t live without you.”

 

Taemin held my hand and squeezed them tightly.

 

“You have to. Minho, remember when you said you didn’t know what love was like? I was like that too.  But we found love, and that must mean something, right?”

 

“What does this all mean, then?”

 

Taemin closed his eyes briefly and when he opened it I saw something sparkle. It was the twinkle I had always wanted to see. For the first time I have seen his eyes come alive.

 

“It means,” Taemin begun, “it means that we are capable of love and that this war didn’t stop us from doing so.”

 

“Ehem,” Jinki said. “It’s time. I have orders to watch you do it, Minho.”

 

I nodded solemnly and pointed my gun at Taemin’s chest.

 

I didn’t weep. I cannot weep.

_________________

IDK. This is me trying to get around the ominous writer's block. 


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